


To Get To You

by xxELF21xx



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Best Friends, Blushing, Boys Kissing, Brownie is confused, Chocolate is vvv worried, Coffee is childish, Crushes, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Drunkenness, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Gen, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Metaphors, Milk is a Scary Mom, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Oblivious Yellow Wine, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Panic Attacks, Pets, Post-Battle, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Rated T for Thirst, Relationship Advice, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms), Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Siblings, Wedding Rings, Yellow Discovers Things, Yellow Wine will do anything for Jiuniang don't @ me, brownie and napoleon are Bros, fenjfn crab and bamboo are too cute im soBBING, help the poor boy please, i didn't really follow the prompt sorry anon, in this house we love and appreciate b-52, kind of, poor steak, possible ooc, red wine is such a tease im-, thanks for coming to my ted talk, the girls are having none of their shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-06-26 22:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 7,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15672543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxELF21xx/pseuds/xxELF21xx
Summary: Because Food Souls aren't just fighters -- they're friends and family, sometimes even lovers.[Drabbles]





	1. Cherry Blossoms - Bamboo Rice/Crab Long Bao

**Author's Note:**

> I love them?? so?? much??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crab Long Bao is not fond of surprises, but he is terribly weak for Bamboo Rice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Sasu!](https://butlerbrownie.tumblr.com/post/176472621988/my-decision-lame-little-comic-i-did-in)
> 
> Prompt: Bamri and CLB viewing cherry blossoms

‘Where are we even going?’ Crab Long Bao huffs, annoyed at his partner’s insistence. ‘You’ll know when we get there!’ Bamboo Rice tugs at his wrist unconsciously, sending him tumbling into the taller man. 

Crab Long Bao feels his face warm up when Bamboo lifts him up effortlessly, ‘you’re being too slow!’ 

‘Would you tell me where we are-- ‘ he yelps when Bamboo covers his eyes, ruffling his hair and telling him to be patient. ‘I hate surprises,’ he grumbles to himself, pink cheeks turning red when Bamboo laughs in response. 

He feels something tickle his cheeks, a giggle bubbling up in his throat.  _ What in the world?  _ Bamboo guides him to take a seat on soft grass, the wind whistling lightly in his ears. Ever so slowly, colour blooms in his eyes, light pinks dancing across the vibrant blue skies. 

Oh, was it already time for cherry blossoms? 

The ground around him was littered in cherry blossom petals, he tries his best to collect as many as he can, stumbling to stand up. ‘Huh?’ Little Ah and Big Ah squeak, running off to play in the grass, ‘don’t go too far!’ Bamboo’s strong voice booms across the weirdly empty park. 

Crab Long Bao jumps up at Bamboo, sprinkling flower petals onto green hair. He laughs, startled, shaking the small petals out of his hair. 

‘May we have more good times together,’ Crab Long Bao grins, tossing the remainder of the petals into the sky, colouring it a pretty coral.


	2. Sharing Space - Steak/Red Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steak meets his new roommate. He's not sure if his current situation is good or bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Sasu!](https://butlerbrownie.tumblr.com/post/176472621988/my-decision-lame-little-comic-i-did-in)
> 
> Prompt: Steakwine sharing a bed

Master Attendant has their reasons for doing this, he should know. But-- why  _ him,  _ out of everyone else?! Why not Hamburger or Omurice? 

Steak had to share a God damned room with  _ Red Wine.  _

The thought of breathing the same _ air  _ as him has Steak gagging. A room? Steak’s probably going to commit a murder. 

Cursing, he storms down the corridor, skirting past Milk’s room. Every other Food Soul had their own room, so why did he have to share?  _ ‘I was not expecting your arrival, I’m sorry!’  _ Master Attendant had apologised,  _ ‘I’ll clear out a room right now; you just need to-- oh!’  _ They had been under so much pressure from the injuries the main team sustained, the restaurant, and Steak’s untimely appearance had caused them to, quite literally, fall in exhaustion. Guilty, Steak had offered to share a room with any willing Food Soul; oblivious to the fact that Red Wine was around. 

If he’d known… 

‘Hmn,’ Red Wine hums, a popsicle dangling out of his mouth, ‘Master Attendant did say I would be rooming with someone.’ Steak grunts, setting his swords down at the door. ‘I hope you realise that since everyone gets their own room, we only have one bed.’ 

_ Oh, hell no.  _

His flames spark up brightly, matching the red on his hair and face. Steak glances at the  _ lone, king-sized bed  _ in the room, purple and white satin sheets blending in with its surroundings and finds himself even more bothered. 

‘It’s a big bed, I’ll be fine,’ he answers gruffly, clearing his throat and willing the blush away. Red Wine raises an eyebrow, amused, ‘of course.’

Master Attendant has stated that some of the Food Souls here… tend to be  _ clingy.  _ He hopes his new roommate isn’t.

‘However, I do feel like I have the need to inform you that since  _ Yellow Wine  _ is on a mission; I’ve been tasked to take care of Jiuniang. So, expect another roommate.’ 

This isn’t a problem. This isn’t a problem.  _ This isn’t a prob-- _

‘She will take up the whole of the right side.’

Steak causes a curtain to go up in flames the first evening he spends in his new home.


	3. Taking Ownership of a Pet - Yellow Wine & Jiuniang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jiuniang wants a pet, Yellow Wine's walls are crumbling at an exponential rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Cyrptikitter!
> 
> Prompt: "Can we keep it?" (A kitten) Jiuniang asking Yellow Wine even though he's allergic as fuck (I didn't add the allergy part)

Yellow Wine is not a weak man. He's a towering person who carries around a massive broadsword, his ever permanent scowl an off-putting and intimidating sight. He's a good fighter, having defeated multiple Fallen Angels. Other Food Souls like Hamburger and Cola are always afraid of talking to him, Vodka and Red Wine grimace at his presence. 

Yellow Wine is  _not_ weak. 

'Can we keep it, please?' His left eye twitches, a rejection caught in his throat. 'Yellow, can we?' He coughs, shying away from the innocently excited gaze.  _Ah, if only Sake were here..._ Jiuniang stares at him, smiling brightly in the light drizzle, her umbrella forgotten on the wet floor. Hugged tightly to her chest is a mewling, pitiful kitten, shivering from the cold. 

He clears his throat, looking for a good enough reason to disagree with Jiuniang. Master Attendant was rather fond of animals, and allows the Food Souls to bring in strays they find; a number of Food Souls have their own pets: Bamboo rice and his mice, Vodka with her eagle, Peking Duck and his ridiculous  _horde_ of ducklings, Sanma's insane collection of cats... He coughs, lifting the umbrella from the ground and holding it over the smaller Food Soul, 'you're going to fall sick and make people worry about you if you keep this up.'

He's going for an authoritative voice, but his tone ends up slightly exasperated. Like an elder brother trying to take care of his younger siblings. 

Juniang's hoodie is damp, droplets of rain running down the waterproof material gently. She peers up at him, momentarily ignoring the stray, wide eyes begging for his permission. He sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, 'we- ' 

Softly, she interrupts him, 'can we please keep him?'

Ah, she's on the verge of crying. This is no good,  _no good_ at all!

Panicking, he picks her up, shushing her quietly as he walks back to the restaurant. 'Okay, okay -- we can keep him. Just, make sure he's not sick or carrying anything; okay? We'll find Sanma later to make sure the cat's all good.  _Please don't cry.'_

Yellow Wine is not a weak man; but he crumbles like sand when in the presence of who he considers is his younger sister. Seeing her radiant smile in the stormy weather makes him feel invincible, 'thank you, Yellow Wine!' 


	4. Finding My Way Back To You - Chocolate/Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what if he was being a little childish? He's never hurt anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Coffee/Chocolate, over-worrying

There's an awkward silence that hung above the restaurant -- everyone could feel it: the customers, Master Attendant, and the working Food Souls. Coffee proceeds to smile widely at the two girls he was attending to, cheerily taking their orders and hurrying to the kitchen where he knew Hawthorne Ball was busy cooking up a storm. 

'Hey, Hawthorne, you alright?' Said Food Soul looked ready to collapse, plating up over a hundred servings of emerald rolls. 'I will be,' she snaps, dark rings under her eyes. He frowns, she's been here the whole night, never stopping for a break. Ume was out on a delivery, Skewer and Pudding were in the ice rink. Coffee, who should've been out on a mission, had to take over when Jiuniang had softly asked if he could help out. He sighs, today was more hectic than usual.

He would like to persuade Hawthorne to take a break, but Omurice, who'd been slaving away for a few  _days,_ suddenly collapsed onto the giant crab at the corner of the restaurant. 'Oh, my,' he gasps, grabbing two plates of food off the table and rushing out, covering for his tired colleague. 'I hope you enjoy the food,' he smiles, gliding past the girls over to the counter, where Master Attendant was busy trying to procure ingredients. 

His Master Attendant was an absolute trainwreck, having been troubled by a delivery team Chocolate was in. 'Attendant,' he calls softly, 'Omurice and Hawthorne are at their limit.' His Master Attendant was usually very detailed and meticulous, but the stiffness of the restaurant seemed to be getting to them as well. 'Huh?' They blink, peering into the kitchen, dim eyes alert.

'Oh!' They gasp, standing up hastily, running towards the dazed Omurice, 'Coffee! Could you please go get Zongzi to cover Omurice? I'll get him and Hawthorne to the ice arena!' He sighs, good-naturedly, 'of course, Master Attendant.' They seemed to want to say more but changed their mind at the last moment, going into the kitchen to drag a grumpy Hawthorne and Omurice further into the restaurant, where the ice arena was. 

Coffee ignores it, going upstairs to find Zongzi. 

The midnight buzz of the restaurant is relaxing, with only a handful of customers that were craving a late supper. Most of the Food Souls that had ventured out in the day had returned, tired but happy. Pancake was running around, doing his best in giving everyone a nice, sweet treat; laughing and making jokes along the way. Clear blue eyes gaze into his own, but Coffee looks away in favour of talking to Orange Juice. 

She tuts, her cane jingling lightly at the movement, 'don't you think the both of you are being childish?' Beside her, Jiuniang murmurs in her sleep, cuddling with her cat. 'I don't understand what you mean,' he replies, smiling fondly at the younger girl and her pet. Orange hums, disappointed, 'you can't run forever, you know. Sooner or later, everything will crash and burn.'

Behind the shades, his eye twitches. 'Then let it burn.' 

She snorts, biting into her cake, effectively ending the conversation.

So  _what_ if he and Chocolate had gotten into a spat? He didn't understand why everyone had to be involved in their affairs. It wasn't  _his_ fault, either, Chocolate was just overreacting. He stirs his cup of coffee, sulking, so what if he'd been a little reckless in his latest mission? He'd managed to take a hit that could've severely injured Chocolate; besides, Milk was there. She could heal him. 

'I still think apologising is the best,' Yu Xiang interrupts his thoughts, the librarian was studying him like he was some sort of specimen, slender eyes cutting into his very soul. He tries not to break his cup as he takes a sip, stewing in misery. 'The both of you have caused us quite some trouble. Even  _Brownie_ was not spared, this time.' 

Brownie was the most collected one, out of them all. If he'd been affected... 

He groans, head thumping loudly on the table. Salad squeaks out in shock, only to be shushed by Pancake. 'Why is everyone involved?' He's close to losing his cool, desperately grasping at threads to keep himself steady. Nobody replies him, he can only sigh at that. 

'Because we're family,' Milk's monotonous voice travels across the now empty restaurant, 'and we don't like seeing you two fight over something stupid.'  _Oh, she's using her Mom voice now. Fantastic. Way to make me feel guilty._ 'Apologise.' It wasn't a request, it was a  _demand._ He lifts his head up, defiant, wanting to defend himself by saying he wasn't at fault, but the thundering frown on Milk's face wipes that thought out immediately. He crumples, slouching into his seat, childishly folding his arms. 

'I'm sorry.' Chocolate exclaims loudly, 'for being overbearing and underestimating your strength. I was too consumed with fear and worry that I forgot you were much more capable than that.' Coffee's sunglasses slid down slightly, revealing stunned blue eyes. 'Wha- '

Milk coughs, sending him a blank glare. He huffs, admitting defeat.

'I'm sorry as well, for being reckless and overestimating my abilities; which caused you to worry. I'm sorry for being childish and ignoring you.' A sweet smile breaks out on Chocolate's face, turning into a full grin as he dashes across the room to engulf Coffee in a hug. 

'Love you,' Chocolate mumbles, the words smushed together and rushed out. Coffee laughs, 'love you too.'


	5. Language - Brownie & Napoelon Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brownie does not compute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains in-game spoilers, so look out!
> 
> Prompt: HC that Napoleon Cake replaces words with gestures only he understands, madness ensues as Brownie is roped into this mess

Brownie was seriously regretting everything.

He and Napoleon Cake had been close, having shared a Master Attendant before. They'd stuck together, were often in the same team, and were basically glued to the hip. Some would say there were  _best friends._ But their dynamics have never involved... this...

Somewhere along the way, when they were resummoned, Napoleon had changed. He became a lot more childish, using weird and vague language Brownie often misunderstood. In their previous lives, Napoleon had festered an infatuation with Pastel de Nata, often dragging him along to go pester the pastry chef. Coffee had found it amusing, but Pastel did not. It seemed as though even if they'd been resummoned, some habits don't change. 

'Do you think Pastel has time for us today?' Napoleon grinned, running around the room in a heated frenzy, chucking items of clothing all over the floor. Brownie's fingers twitched, itching to clean up the mess his friend had made. 'Don't you mean: does he have time for  _you?'_ He retaliated, choosing to fold his hands together and wait for his friend to finish up. Napoleon stuck his tongue out, refusing to reply. 

'Very mature,' Brownie's dry reply is drowned out by Napoleon dragging him noisily out the door, chattering about one thing or another. 

Then it struck. 

Napoleon was still yammering on, trying his best to include Brownie in the one-sided conversation, when he did something puzzling. 'Have you tried confessing to B-52 yet?' He'd ask, rather loudly, causing Brownie to blush a tomato red instantly. 'Shut up,' he hissed, trying to cover the other's big mouth, losing his cool composure. 'Have you tried to, y'know,' his friend continued, making random hand gestures, 'maybe he'd accept.'

Brownie blinked, confused.  _What was that?!_ His mind screamed, trying to figure out if it was code for something. Setting his embarrassment aside momentarily, he dumbly aks, 'what?' 

'Oh! You know!' Napoleon repeats the hand gesture as if it were normal. 'I- uh, no.' He stutters out a reply, perplexed. Napoleon makes a weird sound at the back of his throat, 'what about- ' he then proceeds to twirl his fingers in the air, smiling goofily, '-that?'

_What?_

The whole act continues, and that was just the start of it. For the next few weeks, Napoleon Cake continued using weird hand gestures to get his point across, and it got more and more complicated, up to the point where Brownie had  _no idea_ what Napoleon cake was even trying to say anymore. Fed up, he slams his fist on the restaurant table, drawing startled looks from a few customers nearby. 

Napoleon looks at him, head tilted to a side, 'Brownie?'

'What about you?' Brownie snaps, 'have you tried to confess to Pastel?' From the creeping blush on the other Food Soul's face, the answer was probably  _no._ Taking a leaf out his book, Brownie continues, 'why not you try-' he flimsily makes a series of hand gestures, '-maybe he'll accept.'

Napoleon makes another weird sounding noise, akin to a wounded animal, 'he didn't accept!' He all but wails.

Brownie's brain short-circuits, he can feel his soul leave his body.  _What the hell did that mean?!_


	6. Care and Concern - Brownie/B-52

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without defense, the team struggling to keep afloat. However, B-52 can always count on Brownie to help him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [月亮!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamikaze_Embers/pseuds/Kamikaze_Embers)
> 
> Prompt: BB-52, Brownie taking care of B-52 post-battle.

The battle was gruelling, Sweet Tofu was working twice as hard to keep everyone alive. B-52 shudders, his wings creaking in protest as he rises up for another attack.  _Please, let this one stun them,_ he prays, collecting what little energy reserves he had left to shoot a thundering beam down onto Spectra. He drops back down miserably, body quaking in pain and eyesight spotty. 

In front of him, Skewer yells out a warning, but B-52's hearing gets fuzzy like he's underwater, and he forces his nausea down, weakly throwing a bolt at their enemy. Gulping in a large breath of air, he steadies himself, bracing for a hit, knocking both Skewer and Yellow Wine down. He shouts, jumping in front of his friends, trying his best to shield them from any more attacks. 

Sweet Tofu attempts to heal them all, muttering curse words under his breath as Bamboo Rice ploughs into Spectra. His head is pounding, the world a tilted, spiralling mess. 'Not...yet...' he struggles, knees hitting the ground. Bamboo Rice appears to be talking, and the sparks of green are the last thing he sees before he loses consciousness.

 

He snaps awake, sitting bolt upright, groaning as his head freezes over again. For a moment, all he sees are the black and white of a chess board; he clenches his teeth, waiting for the haze to settle. 

'-please lie back down!' Sanma's soft voice reaches his ears in waves before he realises he's being talked to. 'What?' He croaks, wincing at the crack in his voice. Sanma guides him to settle back onto the bed, tutting softly while Miso Soup and Tiramisu rush to and fro to check on the others. B-52 feels as though a weight has been taken off his chest when he sees his teammates, safe and sound, asleep in the beds; 'they're alright?' He does his best to profile any injuries he spots but is shielded by one of Sanma's cats pushing him down. The man himself is frowning, expression taut. 

Just as B-52 was about to complain, the door to the infirmary slams open, jolting Milk, to reveal a dishevelled Brownie. Milk mutters something, causing his partner to flush and stutter an apology; Brownie makes a beeline for him, a huge frown on his face. Sanma sighs, moving away to help Tiramisu with Skewer, 'please, rest.' He nods in reply, shame filling his thoughts.

'Hey, Brownie,' his greeting is muffled when gloved hands grab at his face, tilting it to check for bruises. 'I'm okay,' he reassures, flinching when he finally realises the terrible state of his wings.  _'You are not okay,'_ Brownie hisses, lightly nudging B-52's shoulder, 'you are  _not_ a shield, 52.' He stresses, changing the bandages that fell off his arm. 

Brownie disappears for a moment before coming back with a toolkit in hand. 'Come onn, let's fix your wings. Are the rest of your systems alright?' B-52 smiles -- although Brownie's expression would say it was more of a grimace -- giving him the okay to start. They are silent throughout, the mechanical hum the only thing between them. At some point, Sake had approached them, thanking B-52 profusely for protecting Yellow Wine, but scolds him for throwing his life away so easily. Brownie snorts, unlike the proper butler he was, and chimes in an agreement. The restaurant crew appears not long after, offering him some piping hot food and some words of gratitude -- Pudding and Omurice did admonish him for being reckless, but he'll let it slide -- before disappearing to go crowd around Skewer. 

'Almost done, I added some more features, if that's alright.' His partner smooths down his wings, grooming them as if they were made of feathers. 'Thank you, Brownie.' Pink creeps onto his skin when Brownie lifts up a spoonful of grilled calamari, expectant blue eyes staring straight at him. 'I can- uh, you don't have to-' he flimsily looks for excuses, looking away. The spoon draws closer, as does Brownie, which only worsens the blush on his face. 

Contrary to popular belief, Brownie  _does_ laugh. It's a beautiful, soft sound, making B-52 warm and tingly all over when he gets a close-up view of Brownie's nose scrunch up as his eyes slip shut in glee.  _Like bells,_ he concludes, breaking into a small smile of his own. He opens his mouth, accepting the food, delighted at the taste.

B-52 felt a whole lot better already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this house we do not dehumanize B-52, only show him love and shower him in praises.


	7. A Mess - Sake/Yellow Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His room is in tatters, an utter and complete mess. 
> 
> He doesn't like how... out of place everything is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i should really update these more!! 
> 
> For the anon on tumblr! sorry this took so long!!
> 
> Prompt: When you feel up to it can you do a YW x Sake fic? And the scenario….Well, YW is a hc neat freak for you so let’s say his room somehow got trashed and Sake just happened to walk by. Sorry, I suck at scenarios. Anyways, thank you and bye!

This might be the start of a panic attack.

Or he  _thinks_ it might be start of one; his heart is thundering at an ear-shattering pace, drowning out any other sounds, his mouth is dry, even though he just drank an entire jar of wine (although, admittedly speaking, the wine might be at fault), his eyesight hones in on how  _everything_ is out of place. 

The books on the shelves have been rearranged, dust gathering at the corners, his clothes are folded the wrong way, his writing utensils laying haphazardly all over the table. The bed, which was made just before he left, was messy and looked like someone had aggressive sex on it before slinking away - something that made Yellow Wine's internal neat freak choke up at, the  _thought_ of someone else being in  _his_ personal space had disgusting shivers crawling up his spine, slithering up his abdomen whilst leaving behind an awfully cold slick in its wake. 

The hand on the doorknob tightens as he struggles to breathe, feeling the pinkness of his cheeks sink into ash grey. The final straw was seeing his sword, normally wrapped in cloth and propped up against the window, lying near the bathroom, flecks of blood hardening at its edges.  _I just cleaned it,_ is the first thought that comes to mind. Bile climbs up his throat, his vision blurry, threatening to spill from his lips as he notices how sickeningly  _sweet_ the room smells. 

Someone broke into his room and decided to have their fun. 

Yellow Wine isn't sure if he wants to clean up, he wants to leave this place and run for the hills, somewhere where he can forget this ever happened. 

'- you alright?' Someone buzzes behind him, fingers brushing against his skin. He jolts, shoulders meeting the door roughly, flinching at the unexpected contact. 'Yellow!' The voice becomes clearer, its owner flitting back and forth to make sure he's alright, 'are you hurt?' He wants to shake them away, shout at them to leave him alone, to stay away from his personal bubble; but he doesn't think he can be alone right now. 

Not when his room was like...  _that._

'No,' he croaks, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, 'someone- they, my  _room,'_ he stutters out, willing himself  _not_ to cry. The person standing in front of him,  _Sake,_ turns his head to study the scene; gentle eyes turn into slits as he, too, scrunches up his nose at the smell. Yellow Wine tempts down the sob breaking out of his throat, dry heaving into Sake's chest. 

Sake murmurs soothing words as he rubs large circles into his back, trying to calm him down, 'we'll clean this up, okay? It's going to be alright. Everything will be okay, Yellow.' 

That's when the dam breaks. 

He starts crying, staining the other man's attire, trying to suffocate himself because he wants the creeping sensation to  _go away._ Sake stays still, closing the door behind them, a calm presence in the storm. It feels like an eternity later when Yellow Wine feels the slightest bit better, letting go of the tight grip on Sake's clothes, mumbling an apology. Sake merely runs a hand at the base of his neck, drawing a shudder from him, 'do you want to clean up the room or should I ask Master Attendant to get you a new room?' 

Yellow Wine frowns. On one hand, a new room meant that he could get away from the mess but, on the other hand, he didn't want to bother the Attendant. 'I dunno,' he mutters, not lifting his face away from Sake's chest, the light buzz of alcohol thrumming in his veins. He can feel Sake frown, 'where do you want to rest tonight?' 

He doesn't think he can sleep anywhere that isn't  _his_ space. 

'Thought so,' Sake harrumphs, opening the door once again. 'Come, let's clean up. We can always apprehend the culprit later.' Yellow Wine takes a fearful step in,  _this is the first time anyone's been in my room._ 'Can you tell me how I can help you, Yellow?' Sake's question cuts him out of his trance, his friend looks weirdly out of place. 

Yellow Wine blinks. He likes things to be in their proper order. He needs to fit Sake in, somehow. 

'The bookshelf,' he finds himself talking, 'it needs to be re-dusted and rearranged. The books are arranged by text length and publication year. There's a small marking on the bottom right corner of the cover; if you need help.' Sake gives him a firm nod, filling up a bowl with water and dipping a towel in, 'what else?' His voice is collected, as always, a safe point in his mind. 'Writing utensils are arranged by ink and brush types; blue to black for inks, softest to stiffest for brushes.' 

Sake hums, already wiping down the bookshelf, carefully slotting in the books; the soft thumps of the bookends hitting the backboard a pleasing sound. He looked like he belonged there, in Yellow Wine's space, the moon casting a soft glow on his tranquil face. For the first time in his life, Yellow Wine feels as though his world wasn't tipping over; like something was there to help him maintain the balance. 

Even with Jiuniang, it wasn't this...  _peaceful._

He kind of likes it. 

Yellow Wine feels his shoulders relax; he breathes in softly, walking towards his sword,  _it's okay. Everything will be okay,_ he repeats, cleaning his sword methodically, wiping the blood stains away. The floor is warm, driving away the iciness draped across his body slowly; he wraps his sword up, making sure there is no excess cloth falling out, before propping it up at the right angle so it doesn't completely lean against the window panes. A sense of relief pulses through him.  _It'll be okay._

He moves on to refold his clothes, making sure that no creases can be seen, folding them into neat, short piles. Every new outfit is a different pile, it's easier to grab a change of clothes like this. His coat is a little rumpled, causing an involuntary growl out of him, but he manages to smooth it out and hang it up without much of a problem. Sake informs him that he's done with the bookshelf and stationary, which leaves one thing left - the  _bed._

'Do you want to change the bedsheets?' Sake inquires, voice soft. He nods, turning away from the perfume. The rustling of sheets causes his ears to heat up slightly,  _I don't like that sound._ 'Where are your spare bedsheets?' Yellow Wine points to the hamper under the side table, hiding his blush with his fringe. For a moment, none of them move, causing him to peek up. 

Sake's got an amused look on his face, hiding a smile behind his hand. 'Nothing, nothing,' he waves off the curious look, a fond expression in his eyes. Yellow Wine doesn't budge, pinning him with a glare, 'what,' he answers flatly. Sake turns around, grabbing a set of bedsheets, his shoulders shaking. 

'You're laughing at me,' Yellow Wine accuses, definitely  _not_ pouting. Sake snickers a little louder, setting the bed slowly. 'Really, you're adorable like this.' Yellow Wine feels a blush spread across his face, head jammed in a loop of Sake's words. He sputters, standing up and stomping over, 'I am  _not_ cute!' He exclaims, trying to tower over his friend, but stops midway at the sight of his friend smiling. 

It's not every day the refined gentleman grins like a kid on a sugar-high. 

The words die at the tip of his tongue, his hand jerking back. Sake folds the blanket in the weird way only Yellow Wine was able to do so, placing it in the very centre of the bed, the grin never fading, 'you say that, but you're actually  _ridiculously_ cute, Yellow.' The blush on his face worsens, embarrassment rolling off him in waves. 

'Shut up,' he mutters half-heartedly, poking Sake in the elbow. Sake deigns him with a laugh, his hand automatically stretching around the back of Yellow Wine's neck, drawing small patterns into his skin, 'feeling better?' Sake hums, guiding him to take a seat. The awful perfume was gone, the air around them was clean, everything was in place, and Sake was still there.

'I've never felt better,' he whispers back, molten green eyes drooping tiredly. 'Everything's perfect, now.' 


	8. 5 Times Sake Tried to Seduce Yellow Wine and The 1 Time Yellow Wine Understood -- Sake/Yellow Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively, Yellow Wine is a dense, oblivious man and Sake is _this_ close to giving up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Hi can I request something where YW is drunk and tries (or succeeds?) to seduce sake? Maybe make it a little steamy if your ok with that?" 
> 
> I didn't... exactly follow the prompt... but... I tried?? No explicit stuff, but the rating of this fic will be bumped up to a T.
> 
> For the anon on tumblr! (ps if you're not happy with this i can rewrite it for you!!!)

**I.**

It started off little touches here and there, ghosting over his skin and leaving searing marks on his mind. Sake finds a way to just... touch him, lingering longer than necessary with that willful smile of his. Yellow doesn't quite get it, but he likes the skinship -- he likes being  _near_ Sake.

He just... doesn't understand why Red Wine gives him a  _look_ when Sake is around him, though. 

 

Sake bumps into Yellow Wine's shoulder, 'Yellow, could you help me with the bedsheets? Master Attendant wants them all changed by tonight.' Yellow frowns, eyebrows pushing together (and all Sake can think of is how Yellow would look when-- ), 'just the two of us?' Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he puts on a smile, tugging Yellow's elbow to drag him towards the laundry room. Rubbing little circles into his friend's skin, Sake glances at the ever-present Red Wine, glaring at the man as he flashes pointy teeth towards them. 

'Yellow,' he drawls, comfortable in the safety of an empty room, 'I really would like for you to come to my room one night.' Pressing his body weight against Yellow Wine's back, he awaits an answer, 'are you listening?' Yellow nods, hands busy with sorting out the different sheets, nimble fingers separating pillowcases from duvet covers. 'What were you saying?' He seemed so focused,  _always_ so focused, not giving Sake so much as a  _glance._

Sighing, the silver-haired man mumbles a dejected  _"nothing",_ throwing a purple bedsheet into the washing machine.

**II.**

Rounding a corner, Sake bumps into Yellow Wine -- quite literally. 

'Sorry!' Yellow exclaims, scrambling off the floors to help Sake collect the restaurant's management reports. 'It's nothing, I apologise for not slowing down,' Sake calmly replies, scooping up loose papers and stacking them neatly. They continue this for quite some time, the shuffling of papers a nice background noise. 'Do you want me to rearrange them?' Yellow asks, handing over a stack while brushing the dust off his pants. Sake shakes his head, thanking the other man for helping him. Yellow Wine's cheeks turn a light pink, obviously embarrassed, 't-then, I'll be going.'

His eyes notice how dishevelled and messy his partner's hair was, and he unconsciously reaches out to sweep long bangs behind Yellow's ear, marvelling at beautiful gold eyes. 'Sake?' Yellow's face grows red, eyes peering at him with curiosity.  _Ah, I wonder what it feels like to pull at his hair..._ Finger wind around a lock of silky hair, and Sake tugs at it lightly, relishing in the small keen from Yellow Wine's lips.

'I wonder what other sounds I can get out of you,' he murmurs, backing the trembling man against a wall. Yellow's blush extends to the tips of his ears, 'huh? Weren't you going to the restaurant with the reports? The Attendant must be worried about you.' 

Immediately, Sake backs off; collecting himself. 'Thank you, Yellow.' His friend throws him a bright grin, walking off.

**III.**

'Am I not obvious enough?' Sake asks Sanma, startling the gentle man with his annoyed shout. 'Pardon?' Sanma eyes him warily, offering a cat to pet his anger away. He groans, planting his face into soft fur, letting the cat's purrs run to his head, 'it's just... I literally  _had him against the wall_ and he didn't even notice? I don't know how much more obvious I can be.' 

The corners of Sanma's eyes crinkle up in amusement as he hides his laugh in a cough, 'oh.' Sake huffs,  _'oh.'_

Bamboo Rice's boisterous laughter and an indignant shout from Yellow Wine crash into the training grounds. The stronger man had Yellow in a headlock, mussing up his neat ponytail as they wrestled playfully. As they drew closer, Sanma taps the side of his head, grabbing his attention; 'maybe you should just be uncharacteristically blunt, Sake.' 

'You think it'll work?' 

'It might,' Sanma winks, laughing at the groan of pain Sake lets out. 

Bamboo Rice wins the match, as expected, and the two of them drop down into the shade in a heap of sweat. Sanma scrunches up his nose, 'ew,' he complains childishly, causing Bamboo to swat at him. Yellow gives a breathy laugh, joining on the teasing.

'Hey, Yellow?' Sake calls, taking the offered advice. 'Yeah?' Yellow's chest was fluttering, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead; a drop gathers at his eyelashes, expectant gold irises stare at him. 'Let me suck your dick.'

Bamboo Rice chokes, falling off the ledge and onto the dirt of the courtyard. Sanma accidentally hits his head against a beam. 

Yellow Wine cackles, rolling around in fits of joy. 'Oh, man! Bamboo, you good?' 

Sake gives Sanma a long-suffering look.

**IV.**

Red Wine topples down onto his seat, head buried in his hands. Yellow Wine pats the other man's back, shaking his head with sorrow. Sake takes a seat at opposite them, poking Red. 'What's up with him?' 

Yellow nudges him to be quiet as Red groans loudly,  _'he's so dense. How is he still alive?'_ Sake blinks, confused; looking at Yellow for an answer.  _Steak,_ he mouths. Oh, right. Red Wine might be crying, or he might be cursing the Gods of Tierra, but Sake isn't too sure. 

'I can't believe you fell for  _that,'_ Yellow chortles, avoiding a slap to the face. Red raises his head, glaring at Yellow, then turning his gaze to Sake, 'yeah, I really  _can't.'_ Sake buries his head in his sleeves, 'don't remind me, please.'

The blond looks at them, bewildered. 'Wait, what?' 

Twining their fingers together, Sake watches as Yellow gets more and more confused. Red continues to complain, while Sake feels long, rough fingers from the fingernail and down every phalange. He hears a small giggle, Yellow's fingers twitching from the touch, colour tinging his face. 

'It's ticklish, stop that,' Yellow complains, and Sake drops his hand. Sighing, Sake empathetically pats Red's back. 

**V.**

He was sent to the catacombs, without Jiuniang or Sake by his side. 

'Master Attendant, this is...' Sake trails off, watching Yellow Wine scuffle with Bamboo Rice before he parts ways. His Attendant smiles, patting his arm, 'I believe that he's stronger than his ranking says. Besides, with Tempura and Tom Yum, he'll be just fine.'  _That's not what I'm worried about,_ he sulks as he glances at Miso, tugging enthusiastically at a sleepy Sanma. Tempura and Tom Yum are trying to drag Yellow away from Bamboo, shouting at the man to let go. 

They'll be fine. 

Yellow suddenly appears in front of him, hands cupping his face, 'you okay? You look pretty pale.' Sake allows him to do an inspection, smiling fondly. 'I'm just worried for you, Yellow,' he admits softly, adjusting the man's satchel so the leather straps don't dig into his skin. 'I've got a strong team, we'll make it back in no time!'

A strong urge overpowers him, and he's tugging Yellow Wine closer, biting slightly chapped lips and locking the two of them in a searing kiss. Yellow melts in his touch, scrambling to hold onto something. They part, Sake reluctantly pushing him away, gasping for breath; red as tomatoes. 'Come back safe,' he whispers, head against Yellow's shoulders. 

'Yeah, I will. Thanks for the good luck,' Yellow gasps, no doubt grinning like a fool. 

Except it  _wasn't_ a good luck kiss. It wasn't an anything-kiss. Sake just wanted to kiss Yellow Wine.

 

 

 

**+1**

It evolves into something  _more,_ light kisses against the neck, playfully biting his ears, telling jokes that make his head steam -- Sake knows how to push his buttons, make him squirm and stutter in embarrassment. Red Wine tells him that it should be obvious, but he doesn't get it. It riles him up, leaves him wanting for something, but he doesn't know what  _Sake_ wants. 

They were drinking -- or rather,  _Yellow Wine_ was drinking, while Sake watched over him. Yellow had been trying so desperately to make sense of whatever he was feeling from Sake's advancements, unsure of where they stood in the line. He stands, wobbling over to sit in Sake's lap, burrowing himself into the other man's chest, 'hey... I, I kind of- ' He hiccups, sloshing wine onto his clothes. Wrinkling his nose, he sheds off the shirt, leaving his chest bare, draping himself onto Sake. Sake undoes the hair tie, letting soft hair tumble across his back and covering his eyes, running a hand through it.

He brings his fingers up to trace Sake's skin, mind wandering back to all those times they'd kissed. Then, he thinks about all the touches, and the looks Sake would give him. 'I really like your lips,' he mumbles, turning to press his ears against Sake's chest, 'they're really nice, and soft.' Sake grows stiff, unblinking. Yellow Wine thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sake nips at his fingers, pushing him out of his mind. 'What are you thinking, Yellow?' He murmurs into the palm of Yellow's hand, eyes lighting up at the shiver that runs through him. 'N-nothing,' he rushes, cheeks flushing when Sake moves  _even closer._ 'Wha- ' He gets cut off, the alcohol buzzing around his brain amplifying every touch and every emotion, sending him into places unknown.

They kiss, still sweet and gentle, but Sake's impatience shows in the way his grip on Yellow tightens, forcing them closer; a persistent tongue lapping at his lips.  _That's_ when he gets it, opening up to Sake, letting him take as much as he wants; smothering the sounds and clenching at blankets, fire coursing in his veins. 'Please,' he gasps, trying desperately to tug off Sake's clothes, cursing the man's formal attire. 

A thrill runs down his spine at the smile Sake gives him, 'oh? You finally understand?' 

Yellow Wine's response is swallowed up by a sloppy kiss, head fogging up, slowly coming undone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love dumbass yellow wine


	9. An Event - Popcorn/Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An event is a happening -- something that is created to bring people together for a particular purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i bit my ass trying to study for MICE events and ended up telling chewy that im gonna write fics based off my notes.

 

 

 

 

_An event is a happening -- something that is created to bring people together for a particular purpose._

 

He supposes this is it.

 

He took a gamble, a chance, a _risk._  

 

There are two ways this can go: either it fails terribly and his heart is broken, or he's bound for life with a smile on his face.

 

Popcorn takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he toys with the box in his pocket. Gods, this was.... nerve-wrecking. He'd been practising, sorting through his chances and praying to whatever saint was out there (Canele didn't count, did she?) that his biggest (current) dream would come true.

 

Ah... he's starting to get hungry.

 

He knows that the restaurant crew has his back, preparing for either a success or a loss. It felt nice, to have a mountain to lean on. Pancake slaps his back, pushing him out the doors and into the courtyard of the restaurant, where Sandwich waited patiently.

 

Hidden in the bushes, Sweet and Sour gives him two thumbs up. Wanton smiles kindly, eyes twinkling.

 

Gulping, he timidly approaches the other soul, worrying the smooth material of the box. Sandwich lifts an eyebrow, confused about the weird behaviour.

 

'Did... something happen?' The blond asks, eyes flitting to inspect every inch of Popcorn's body, checking for wounds. He shakes his head, feeling the air turn a million times hotter, the humidity sticking to him like a second skin. 'Okay....' Sandwich drags out his response, unconvinced.

 

_It's not or never,_ he decides, numbingly taking the box out while Sandwich continues to give him a weird look.

 

'What....' The words die in Sandwich's throat, jaw slack and eyes wide as Popcorn pulls out the ring. It's a simple silver band, with lavenders and roses twining along the expanse of the surface, etched lightly with gold. A lone, stunning rose gold is in the center, bright white against the metal.

 

'I know... that we haven't always been on the best of terms.' He starts, stammering through his little speech. 'And I know... that this won't last forever, that we'll forget who we are in our next lives, and what we meant to each other. I know that our lives can either be long or short, that they won't cross. I know that we may be enemies in the future.'

 

Sandwich's eyes glimmer, bright and filled with grief.

 

'But... for now.... just for this lifetime that I share with you; living together and working together, this lifetime that I've spent _loving you._ I want to bind myself to you, for however long this lifetime will be.'

 

He almost chokes, tears slipping down embarrassingly, 'would you marry me?'

 

_A special event is consciously planned and created to mark the special occasion with programmes, presentations, celebrations, or to achieve a particular social, cultural, corporate and national goals and objectives._ '

 

Heavens strike me down if I say no.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my askbox is closed at the moment, but do feel free to scream at me about foofan~~


	10. Sunshine - Spaghetti/Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a classic song, but it doesn't feel quite right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it doesn't have to be spaghetwhisk but that's what i had in mind when i wrote it :")

_You are my sunshine,_  

Were the first words I uttered to you. Under the glowing moon, you swayed alongside the hyacinths, jovial and bright amongst the spotty sky. Something sparked under my skin, burning like a fire, wanting to consume and  _take, take,_ _ **take.**_  

 _My only sunshine,_  

Nobody could compare to you, dearest Angel, for you are capable of everything a good man isn’t. You, kind, wondrous, gentle, strong, brave. You, with a silver tongue and dressed in plainclothes; you, who made everyone succumb to your Almighty Grace. 

 _You make me happy,_  

Dearly so. You brighten up my dull life, bringing joy and sanity, adding splashes of colours in this monochrome reality. The tales you spin, the songs you dance to, the lilt in your voice as you recall a particularly interesting event from the past. Everything adds up perfectly, you are the perfect Star in the Night Sky, connecting them to form beautiful constellations. 

 _When the skies are grey,_  

There are times when I think of how pathetic I am, wielding a sword at my side and nothing else. I have no pride, no dignity. Shame fills my veins, pushing me to corners of the world as I hide and weep and cry. Oh! How I wish to be a better man! How I wish! Yet, you, you who has stayed by me - through my rise and fall, from ashes to riches - you remind me of what I could be, spinning me yarns and treading from truth and lie. Whispers of better days ease my aching heart, thundering loudly in my ears. I am so very glad you are here, with me. 

 _You’ll never know, dear,_  

I keep tragic secrets from you - gossips and rumours that never reach your ears. Anyone that stands in our way, I shall take down, drenching myself red. I take, and take, and  _ **take.**_ But you keep giving, overflowing your chalice until my gloves are drenched burgundy from wine. It is human to err, but neither of us are true men, merely copies of desires. And so I feed into my desire, to sit upon a throne of lies.

 _How much I love you - ’_  

Is there a doubt of my allegiance to you? I, who receives your gifts and advises like Tantalus finally grasping sweet fruit. I, who strive to become this image of Perfection in your mind, shedding away everything I once stood for. You, who has monopolised my every move; and I, who take for your love. This is the bridge that we chose to build, cold and misty. 

_So, please,_

There are times when I think about what my life would be like, without you. I end up crying, shackled in shadows and fear as the light burns out in my soul. I crave for you, then, your pretty words and cold reassurances. Those times when you do not exist shocks me, leaving me in pain and suffering. 

 _Don’t take my sunshine away._  

With you gone, this kingdom - _mine?_  - lies in shambles. There is no guiding light, no singing voice, there are no hands to cover my eyes. I am now swathed in red, from head to toe. Gone were the days of my regal ruling, the streets now riot with famine and horrors, and my halls are devoid and filled with ghosts. What was once glorious, I now see, was just a lie. And you, my puppet master, I still love you so. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell about me in my askbox, but please be nice:(


	11. What Sets Us Apart - Steak/Red Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difference between us... is just too great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted to write some tan steak and this monster reared its head at me

In the winter, where most people turn pale and shrivel up, you thrive. 

Exuding warmth and courage, you persist, melting the stone cold hearts of everyone around you. Children cheer when they see you, maidens blush when you approach, and the fine young men look towards you in awe and wonder. You are their hero: bright, welcoming and warm. 

I can never compare to you; you, who is bathed in a hue of gold; you, whose eyes and hair crackle with fire. You, who is brave yet foolish. I am but a jaded man, a servant to your worthiness. 

But you come before me, time and time again, all brazen smiles and kindness, asking for my hand. I do not understand why such a fair knight like you would fall for someone like me…. a lowly noble whose name I cannot speak. 

You say that everything about me makes you dizzy with delight, that every time you think of me you smile and turn into a pile of mush – but I cannot reciprocate. Everything about you makes me a coward, a little man; insignificant to your tall tales and great deeds. Every time I think of you, my chest gets heavy and I would feel faint, embarrassed,  _fear._  

I cannot love you, this knight of mine. Every moment I spend with you is a spool of jealousy waiting to be unravelled. 

I cannot love you, oh foolish man. There are others much better than I. 

I cannot love you, dearest Steak. I am but a Prince; and you, my right-hand man. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to request a fic, leave me an ask on my [tumblr](https://yellow-wine.tumblr.com/)! I'll always be happy to write about these adorable food souls! Just give me a pairing/characters involved + a random prompt!


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